Sex Addict (Cowboy Addiction 2)

“That’s not true. Mona was here one summer. That gorgeous lady from New Orleans, what was her name? Oh yeah, Peggy Ann. She stayed two months.” Kemper looked toward the fields. “But you’re right. I have a feeling Holly will be around for years to come if Kit doesn’t scare her off first.”

“Then what are you doing with me? If I were you, I’d go supervise her training. A submissive wants to know she’s adored and cherished as much as any other woman. And she wants to feel safe. Depending on how Kit handles her, she may not feel as protected as what you might think. That basement is pretty intimidating.” A beat later, she added, “A submissive longs for security, Kemper. She wants to know she has a rock, a solid foundation to support her. Always remember that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Kemper,” she replied, squeezing his arm. “And I have a feeling you’ll provide plenty of support without a lot of effort. You’re in love with her.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Hmm, you might be right.”

“I’m seldom wrong.”

“We won’t go there,” he said firmly.

“There you go again, making me accountable for past actions.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“You’re right. I would.”

As Kemper walked away, Morgan watched him. She had chosen not to pry, but based on the loud conversations she’d overheard, she understood Holly’s imperfections. Her past must’ve been a torrid one for Kit to become so enraged.

Unfortunately, her brothers, given their eclectic choices in pastime activities, probably didn’t understand the magnitude of sex addiction. Based on what Morgan had learned, Holly was a sex addict. And her addiction, if unattended, could be just as damning and deadly as Morgan’s crystal meth problem.

Holly needed help. She felt confident Kit would eventually be able to give her the support she needed. That is, if he first viewed Holly’s issues as a sickness, as a real problem he and Kemper needed to address.

* * * *

Holly squeezed her knees together as she tried to draw the dildo higher inside her pussy. Kit had been coming and going all afternoon, and each time he left her to play with a new toy.

The latest gadget was long and lean, not at all a selection she might have made. The end was pointed more like a cone than shaped like a cockhead. Holly much preferred the soft mushroom crest. Then again, an artificial dick paled in comparison to the real thing.

Sliding her bottom up and down, she tried to gyrate, move her hips as the dildo buried inside her. This wasn’t any fun. This was going nowhere fast. And she needed to come.

At the top of her lungs, she screamed, “I’m not getting anything out of this!”

She strained to hear any kind of noise. What she’d give to listen to Kemper’s heavy footsteps walking toward her. She was willing to bet she could convince him to fuck her.

Thinking of Kemper then, her mind traveled back to the past, tossing her into the year before. The night he and Kit walked into the club, changed her life. She’d known it from the moment she set eyes on them. They were there for the dancers, for the strippers they wanted to see. But they would go home with her.

She still remembered Kemper shyly asking her to dance for him. She’d tried to convince him to pay for a shower dance, certain if he saw her completely nude he’d want to take her home. Little did she know how quickly he’d become aroused by a simple lap dance.

Her body pulsed around the toy inside her as she recalled slipping over his lap. She’d placed her hands on his shoulder and moved with the music, swaying to the left or right, working her body around him like she was ready to soar, absolutely certain to take flight.

The dance performed was illegal by club standards. She’d hoisted herself up over him at one point, making sure he caught a whiff of her pussy as she practically nudged him with her mound. By the time she was done with him, drool was practically rolling off his chin.

Maybe that was a little extreme.

Still, she’d done her job and made him cream his pants.

A door slammed in the distance. She was instantly aware of someone’s presence. Her daydreams slipped away. “Kemper?”

“Kit,” he mumbled, pushing the curtain out of his way.

She took a deep breath and said, “Thank God. If you don’t come on over here and fuck me, you and I are certain to have serious problems.”